


Favorite non-sexual activity?

by SomethingBlue42



Series: OTP Question Meme [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Touch-Starved Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:40:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25234804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomethingBlue42/pseuds/SomethingBlue42
Summary: Castiel remembered the first time he’d touched Dean this way.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: OTP Question Meme [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1828084
Comments: 5
Kudos: 160





	Favorite non-sexual activity?

**Author's Note:**

> [otp question meme master list](https://deanwinchesterfirstofhisname.tumblr.com/post/622737293151715328/otp-question-meme-master-list-who-is-the-most#_=_)

It was 3 am when Castiel appeared in the bunker, the dark silence of the library disturbed by the flutter of wings. He maneuvered easily around the tables despite the limitations of his vessel, making his way towards the hall but he stopped, sensing that Dean wasn’t in his room. 

He let his grace lead him towards the opposite hall, weaving his way through the maze of tiled corridors until he saw a soft light glowing from a doorway. Dean was passed out on the sofa in the Dean-Cave, the screen asking him if he was still watching. 

Castiel took a moment to admire the human, his face relaxed in sleep, arms crossed over his broad chest one ankle crossed over the other fully clothed down to the boots on his feet. Castiel slipped the remote from Dean’s hand, setting it on the coffee table among the empty beer bottles and slid his arms gently under the hunter’s knees and shoulder blades.

Dean shuddered awake as Castiel began to lift, crying out at the sensation of floating and Castiel absolutely did not drop him, merely released him so he wouldn’t hurt himself flailing. Dean fell back to the couch with a huff, squinting up at Castiel in the dim glow of the TV screen.

“Fuck, what have I told you about doing that?”

“Don’t do it in front of Sam.” Castiel intoned. “Sam’s not here Dean. Let me get you to bed.”

“Don’t wanna go to bed. Was watching somethi-” Dean cut himself off, glaring at the TV. “Yes, Netflix.” Dean snatched the remote up and pressed a button. “I’m still watching.”

The screen blazed to life, Dean throwing up a hand to shield his eyes as the intro to Dr. Sexy began to play. Castiel sighed, lowering himself to the couch next to Dean, resting his arm against the back as Dean swiveled to lay back down again, his head landing against the warm cushion of Castiel’s thigh.

Castiel watched as Dean attempted to get comfortable, wiggling his shoulders, rubbing his cheek against the fabric of his slacks. Once Dean was settled, Castiel counted to one hundred in his head before he allowed himself to look down. Dean’s face was illuminated by the blue light from the television, colors, and light striating across his skin. He was blinking slow, long lashes fanning obscenely over luminous green eyes, freckles standing out starkly against his tan skin. 

Castiel allowed the pad of one finger to trace the delicate shell of Dean’s ear, warm and soft to the touch. The other man didn’t jump but his eyes, which had been drifting closed opened wide again. Castiel stilled as Dean shifted, rolling onto his back and closing his eyes. One hand came up fingers rasping against the fabric of Castiel’s trenchcoat at his elbow, a subtle request. 

Castiel obliged, carding one hand through the thick hair at Dean’s crown, the other trailing cool fingertips down the bridge of Dean’s nose, whispering across his full lips. Castiel continued to let his fingers wander, his touch remaining light to dance across stubbled cheeks and the sharp cut of Dean’s jaw. 

Castiel remembered the first time he’d touched Dean this way, healing split and burned flesh, reconstructing a nose that had been broken over and over again for decades. He remembered Dean’s sob of relief, barely sentient, as Castiel reset his jaw, redrew his eyebrows. Castiel painted every freckle smattered across Dean’s nose, placed every fleck of gold in his emerald eyes. 

Dean doesn’t remember any of that, not consciously but his body seems to remember, leaning into Castiel’s touch as if it were imprinted in every cell, Dean’s soul singing in harmony with the low hum of Castiel’s grace. 

“Missed you,” Dean mumbles against the brush of Castiel’s knuckles along Dean’s lower lip. “Missed this.”

Castiel didn’t respond, merely cupped Dean’s jaw, allowing the warmth of his hand to seep into Dean’s skin, grace touching soul, his vessel’s heart thrumming in time with Dean’s pulse.

**Author's Note:**

> [Visit me on Tumblr](https://deanwinchesterfirstofhisname.tumblr.com)   
> 


End file.
